


And I Fell for the Sun

by Max_Mercury773



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Eventual Fluff, F/M, Moody Yukio, Romance, Some R&R, Some angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 09:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10851594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Max_Mercury773/pseuds/Max_Mercury773
Summary: He saw the way she looked at him as she turned to walk away. Whether it was pity or sympathy on her face, he didn't really care enough to try to differentiate between the two. Yukio didn't even have the heart to thank her as she left. This had been the single most embarrassing moment of his life--the day he met Kimi Matsumoto. Yukio/Oc





	And I Fell for the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> There aren't enough of Blue Exorcist stories. Written in five parts in which Yukio gets progressively older and less moody.

Yukio Okumura has been feeling pensive as of late. Currently, the over-productive twentysomething is on a train to Nagano for a business trip. It seems that there’s always something that needs to be done, regardless if it’s related to demonic possession. The question on his mind is--his phone buzzes in his coat pocket. Yukio pulls it out and glances at the illuminated screen. Shura. He opts to ignore it and slides his phone back into his pocket.

And so he sits quietly, mostly alone, legs crossed, staring down at the golden engagement ring on his finger. Now how the hell had that happened? How the hell had any of this happened? He knows that Kimi loves him. She tells him so every day--not directly but in her own subtle way. Yukio appreciates subtlety.

His phone buzzes violently again and he checks it. Rin. He answers.

“How’s my favorite brother doing,” Rin’s eager voice chirps.

“Rin, I am your only brother.” Not counting all their demonic half-brothers.

“True facts, true facts. But if I did have another brother, you’d still be my favorite.”

“Alright, what do you want?”

“I definitely don’t want a favor from the sweetest, smartest, bestest brother in the entire world if that's what you're thinking. No, not in the slightest.”

“Rin, I know schmoozing when I hear it. If you're going to schmooze your way out of something or I guess in this case into something, you should at the very least be good at it before you try.”

“Okay, point taken. Well, you see, me and Shiemi-”

“-Shiemi and I.”

“Dude, really?”

“Really.”

“You're correcting me right now.”

“I wouldn't have to correct you if you used proper grammar, you know, like an adult.”

“Damn, lil’ brother. Damn--but my grammar skills aren't what's important right now. The point is that our anniversary is two days from now and I kind of blew through my romantic-creativity repertoire within the first seven years of our marriage. I need help. I’ve got nothing.”

“...I...you're coming to me for romantic advice?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, Rin, I need you to be completely honest with me. What drugs are you on?”

“I’m not on anything!”

“You're asking me to help you with your love life when I am the least romantic person you know. You have to be on something.”

“Look, I already asked Bon the Forever Prude and he just told me to figure it out by myself, that he has nothing to do with Shiemi and I’s relationship. Then I tried Koneko who basically told me the same thing and if I even attempt what Shima told me to do I think I would break something. Or everything. Izumo yelled at me for fifteen minutes straight for not knowing what to do and then she hung up.”

“Okay, you're not on drugs.”

“And then I tried asking Shura--”

“--Oh please tell me you didn't.”

“I did,” he says solemnly. “I asked her and she laughed in my face.”

“Did you ask Kimi?”

Rin pauses.

“Oh my god I completely forgot about your amazing life-saving girlfriend.”

“Actually, she's my fiancé now.”

“What.”

“We're engaged,” he repeats.

“...Yukio...for once in your life you decided to follow my advice and you're just now telling me?! Where are you? I’m coming to yell at you in person.”

“On a train to Nagano.” And suddenly very thankful that he is. “I only proposed yesterday so it's not like I purposefully hid it from you.”

“There are so many things wrong with what you just told me. You're taking missions the day after you proposed?”

“Life doesn't stop just because I made a decision. There are demons to exorcise, people to help, and I intend on doing just that.”

He hears Rin sigh so he offers something more comforting to appease him. “Kimi understands.” Yukio really doesn't get how or why she understands his workaholic tendencies. He has an inkling she might only be saying she does to avoid fights.

“I don't want to argue with you and it's not my place to tell you how to live your life,” Rin continues. “But I still worry, okay? Stay safe. I’ll talk to you later.”

The line disconnects.

_Has it really been seven years?_

  
I.

Yukio Okumura stared blankly at the place where the book, _The Encyclopedia of Demons and Demonology_ , should have been. He stared and stared and stared, combatting his oncoming headache with sheer willpower, left hand twitching at his side, as if just by standing there gawking he could make the book magically reappear. Sadly, he wasn't a goddamn magician. From the moment he had opened his eyes that morning, Yukio could tell that this day, out of all days, was hellbent on kicking his ass.

Like everything that goes wrong in his life, the catalyst for the unfortunate series of events that had been plaguing his entire week was, unsurprisingly, his twin brother. Rin had been behaving especially...well...Rin, over the past few days--meaning that his temperament was on the same level of aggression and teen angst as that of a Tasmanian devil.

Rin and their father had gotten into a screaming match over something he had either done or NOT done the night before. Yukio had been able to sleep through most of argument but Rin's tantrums are generally impossible to ignore. Only fourteen years old and still one brash assault away from having a permanent residency in the local jail.

Yukio loved his brother, he really did. It was just that sometimes, he wanted to slap him until the stupidity left his body.

Yukio pushed his glasses up on his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply. Gathering up his remaining patience and overall sanity, he headed over to the librarian’s desk, his shoes padding softly on the dark red carpet. Her wisps of white hair were pulled back into a tight bun, her skin was wrinkled and sagged in places. In short, the old librarian looked positively ancient.

“Excuse me,” he started politely, catching the decrepit old librarian’s attention. “Has the Encyclopedia of Demons and Demonology been checked out?”

The old woman gave him an appraising look, somewhat sceptical and somewhat curious. “It’s for a research paper,” he added on quickly. A research paper that was due in three days. She nodded and pointed a long, shaking finger over to a navy blue binder to the side of him.

“Check the sign-out sheet.”

Yukio side-stepped to the left and flipped open the enormous collection of signatures, dates, and book titles. He scanned the forms, deciphering rushed handwriting and what looked like random scribbles on the page before flipping back a page. He found it rather easily then. There, in the center of the page was the title of the book he so desperately needed. It had been checked out that very day. And directly beside it, written all prim and proper, was a name.

 _Kimi Matsumoto_.

He frowned.

Despite Yukio not yet being a full-fledged student of True Cross Academy, he still managed to pick up a few pieces of school gossip albeit inadvertently. He knew of her, Kimi Matsumoto, a soon-to-be third year and the infamous heartbreaker of True Cross Academy. From the snippets of information that had been forced into his brain by his obnoxious non-classmates, Yukio had concluded that Kimi Matsumoto was a social butterfly, the type of girl with a friend circle the size of an Olympic stadium and a GPA that never exceeded nor dipped below a 3.0.

Not the type of person he would have imagined reading a book about demons and their hypothesized place in the Gehennan hierarchy but what the hell did he know anyway?

Yukio returned his attention back to the librarian. He was going to get that book.

“Do you know where I could find Kimi Matsumoto?”

Again the librarian gave him this look which, to Yukio, seemed awfully judgemental and again she stretched out a long, bony finger. She pointed to the back of the library where a large conglomeration of tables was situated. “She should be there.”

He thanked her, gave a short bow, and speed-walked away.

There was a grand total of three people sitting at tables. Two students, both male, were sat facing one another, having what seemed to be a pretty intense conversation despite their hushed voices. In the corner was a girl, hopefully the one he was looking for, who looked to be two minutes away from passing out from exhaustion. He approached carefully.

“That wouldn’t happen to be the library’s only copy of the Encyclopedia of Demons and Demonology, would it?”

She looked up, then back down to the book, then back at him.

“Oh, yeah,” said Kimi Matsumoto, rubbing her face. “I guess it is.”

Yukio wasted no time getting to the point.

“May I have it?”

“Sure,” said Kimi brightly. “Oh wait--did you mean now?”

“Yes.”

“In that case, no can do.”

Yukio’s frown deepened.

“Well, will you be finished with it soon?”

“Probably not.”

Instead of doing something normal like, say, _leaving_ , Yukio took a seat across from Kimi Matsumoto and stared her down.

“You’re not going to make me read any faster, you know,” she commented after a while.

“I figured,” he responded. “but I really need that book.”

Now, by no means was Yukio Okumura a ladies’ man. Girls seemed to like him for whatever reason but they usually gave up on him once they noticed the expression on his face that occasionally said ‘I wish that I could give less than a shit about this conversation’. His father would always get on him about that, saying that he was too young to appreciate all that the fairer gender has to offer.

Staring at her face, which had a thoughtful expression with a bemused little smile, Yukio could definitely see where her popularity came from. Her chestnut brown hair was pulled back into a neat-n-tidy ponytail and there wasn’t a single hair out of place. And like most teenage girls, she wore makeup although it seemed to be very little. She obviously took pride in her appearance. She was probably vain, like most.

He could always appeal to that.

Right as the idea popped into his head, Yukio cringed. Although he wasn’t above using his charm for the sake of completing an assignment, he couldn’t help but think of all the ways this could go wrong. But then again, he really needed that book.

There were drawbacks to having your dad as your teacher, especially someone as unorthodox as Shiro Fujimoto. “Expect the unexpected” was his motto. The man had assigned the five-paged paper the day before despite Yukio already being a certified exorcist. And he knew better than to try and object.

He took a breath, resigning himself, and turned on the charm.

“You know,” he began slowly, already regretting this decision, “you have beautiful hazel eyes.”

Kimi Matsumoto looked up immediately and, to his surprise, she giggled. Maybe this would be easier than he thought. “What?” She asked, smiling coyly.

“You have beautiful eyes,” Yukio repeated.

Kimi Matsumoto laughed at his attempt at flirtation, covering her mouth to muffle the sound. “I appreciate the compliment. But, my eyes are not nearly as beautiful as yours, sweetheart.”

The shy smile that had been on her face turned devious.

“ _What_?”

“Not many people in Japan have blue eyes,” she continued. “Not without wearing colored contacts. If we’re being completely honest here, yours are much prettier than mine. That hypnotizing deep blue,” she sighed dramatically, hand over her heart, as if she was suffering from a bad case of puppy love, “anyone could get lost in those eyes.”

Yukio felt himself flush red, not at the compliment but at the realization of exactly how stupid he was. Obviously she knew what he was up to. It had been absolutely stupid to think that she wouldn't. Kimi Matsumoto was the type of person who lived every single day around people who were much better liars, much better manipulators than a fourteen year old who technically didn't even go to the same school.

“If you’re going to try and schmooze your way into getting something then you should at least try to be discreet about it,” she said.

She stood. “If you really need it so badly,” she slid the book over to him, “then take it.”

He saw the way she looked at him as she turned to walk away. Whether it was pity or sympathy on her face, he didn't really care enough to try to differentiate between the two. Yukio didn't even have the heart to thank her as she left.

This had been the single most embarrassing moment of his life--the day he met Kimi Matsumoto.

~

It was a beautiful day. The sky was a clear, crisp blue and the air was warm with a slight breeze and that picked up every now and again. By most people’s standards, it was the perfect day and most people would be outside taking advantage of the amazing weather. Maybe take a nice walk or a bike ride through the park. Yukio, however, was not most people. He was a fourteen year old overachiever with sadly little to no social life. But that was fine with him. There were more important things to be done than making friends.

He sat in the dingy ex-wire classroom, waiting for his father, flipping through a Shonen Jump magazine to pass the time. Apparently, he was going to get another assignment today.

It had been about a week after The Incident and Yukio had successfully expunged it from his memory banks. It didn't happen. He didn't make an ass of himself. He didn't suffer a colossal brain fart that would haunt him for the next decade. It didn't happen. And that was that.

The door swung open slowly, creaking loudly and Yukio stood to greet his father. Shiro Fujimoto strolled in, briefcase in hand, and directly behind him trailed in none other than Kimi Matsumoto. Yukio froze in place. She was dressed in the trademark blacker-than-a-black-hole coat that all True Cross exorcists wore. He felt his mouth go dry and started sweating on the spot.

 _Oh crap_.

“Yukio, this,” he gestured to Matsumoto, “is Kimi Matsumoto. She is two years your senior as both an exorcist and a future classmate. Up until you came along, she had the title of the youngest exorcist. She will be accompanying you on your next exorcism.”

“Officially, he’s assisted with six regular exorcisms. Unofficially, ah, it's more like, um…”

“Seventy-four,” Yukio interjected.

Matsumoto whistled, apparently impressed. “Are you sure I need to be there? He probably has more experience than I do.”

“Well, those were all just preparatory exorcisms. He’s only really seen a handful of real exorcisms, if you get my meaning.”

“Ah,” she nodded to herself thoughtfully. “I understand.”

Okay.

What the actual hell was this? Fate? Karma? Or some other kind of cosmic assholery?

There was only one thing Yukio could think to say in a situation like this.

“When do we leave?"

~

The place was infested.

The estate in which the exorcism was supposed to take place was way out in the countryside and it was positively humongous. Yukio had been given the task of getting rid of the coal tar by their supervisor, Arata Inoue. He was a nice enough guy, in Yukio's opinion. Very candid and laid-back yet still serious. He had informed them of their basic duties and that he would not be helping out with the exorcism in any way, shape, or form unless it was absolutely necessary.

Inoue talked to the wife, the one who’d requested the exorcism and he talked to the husband who honestly didn't seem too happy to see them. By the looks of things, Inoue’s real job was handling the family and making sure that no one did anything too crazy. Even with his minimal experience, Yukio had seen things go from tranquil to batshit crazy in less than a minute so he was pretty appreciative that someone with more experience than him was taking care of that.

The sun had just begun to dip below the horizon and it painted everything with a rich, orange glow. Yukio pulled the pin on a holy water grenade and tossed it lightly into a clump of coal tar that was grouped around a dead tree. The cluster dispersed within a few seconds, like a drop of ink dissipating in a glass of water. He had already expunged what he could find around the wooded area surrounding the actual home. Now, he was focused on the area directly outside of the house.

Yukio rubbed at his arm which had gone stiff from all of the grenades he had thrown that day. He was tired. And uncomfortable. And sweaty. And despite all this he felt oddly calm. In fact, one could say that Yukio Okimura enjoyed cleaning up coal tar, that it was relaxing for him. Or maybe it was just the fact that he finally had some time to himself. Maybe that’s why he was so relaxed. Now that he thought about it, that was most likely the case.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out another grenade.

No Rin to worry about here.

He pulled the pin.

No wounds to patch up.

He threw it into another patch of slipping, squirming darkness.

No lectures to give.

It was just him, nature, and the demons now.

Spotting another horde, he reached for another grenade and finding that he had none left, sighed and pulled out the spray bottle that was attached to his hip. He was calm, cool, collected, and methodical in the way he went about his exorcisms. And although his state of mind was more at peace now than it had been in the past few weeks, there was still something nagging at him.

There always was.

But the cause of this particular uncomfortable tug in the back of his head did not come from the usual source. He glanced to the side and out of his peripheral vision, he saw her moving.

Kimi Matsumoto was a lively girl, full of energy and vivacity. She had been tasked with getting rid of the hobgoblins and was currently doing so with gusto. She wasn't bad with a gun but Yukio thought--knew--that he could do better. He hadn't realized that he was staring until she caught his eye and waved. Kimi Matsumoto smiled a knowing and incredibly irritating smile. She had been like that all day. Acting like they were friends, grinning brightly at him and attempting conversation. She pretended like that day in the library hadn’t happened.

To a certain degree, he was grateful to her for that and yet he still felt that nagging sense of irritation when she was around. It was the kind of irritation that made his jaw clench, his eyes narrow, and any semblance of a smile he might have had tighten into a terse, thin-lipped line. It was the kind of scratching irritation that made him want to refute anything she said solely because she was the one who said it. The kind that wouldn't go away as long as he knew that she was near him.

He was cordial to her, of course, but he made it clear that he had no intention of being any closer than casual coworkers. She had gotten the message eventually and for the most part had kept to herself.

Perhaps it was the lingering shame of his youthful stupidity. Perhaps it was the look she had given him that day, the one filled with all the emotions Yukio hated, the one that said ‘I pity you.’ Perhaps it was his own pettiness. But Yukio Okumura discovered, ankle deep in thick grasses with a comically small spray bottle in his hand, that he just might hate that girl.

“Are you almost done over there?” She called out, “Because I’ve finished up with the hobgoblins.”

“I’m just about done,” said Yukio without turning around.

“Do you need help?”

“No,” he responded a little too quickly and a lot too forcefully. Due to the brief pause, Yukio thought she might have been offended at his tone.

“Alright.”

Yukio spritzed holy water here and there, roamed around a bit for a few minutes, and when he could no longer avoid Kimi Matsumoto, he walked up to her. She was sat underneath a tree, arms crossed, head down.

Asleep.

“Matsumoto-senpai?”

“Matsumoto-senpai?”

“Senpai, would you please wake up?”

“ _Senpai_!”

“Hm? Oh, shoot! Did I fall asleep? I fell asleep, didn't I,” she jumped to her feet, “I’m so sorry.” She smiled sheepishly.

“...We should head inside.”

“Okay. Can I ask you something, Okumura-kun?”

“That depends on the question.”

“...You don’t like me.”

“That is not a question.”

“But is it true?”

“I really don't know you well enough to answer that.”

“Wrong answer, sweetie,” she said very matter of fact, shoving her hands into her pockets.

He whipped his head to the side at the sound of the nickname.

“Excuse me?”

“That was a yes or no question, sweetheart, to which you were supposed to respond with yes or no.”

“What does it matter if I like you or not? If you really need someone to like you to be able to work with them, then you probably won’t get very far in life.”

Matsumoto chuckled as she walked beside him.

“Wow, I’ll take that as a no.”

Yukio chose not to respond and the two of them went inside.

There was definitely something off with both the Akitas and their residence. The husband, Daisuke Akita, openly expressed his disdain for their presence. He was the type of person who didn't believe in spirits or demons or anything of the sort. A man of science.

The wife, Chiaki Akita, acted as if her husband didn't even exist. She talked over him, contradicted him, and when she did choose to acknowledge his existence it was only through an icy glare tossed over her shoulder. A few minutes after Yukio and Matsumoto went inside to report on the situation outside, she ushered him out of the house, giving him some inane task to deal with. It was only then that she started to act semi-normal.

The place was constructed in the traditional style. Tatami mats, sliding screen doors, the whole ten yards. A faint and distinctive smell lingered around every inch of the place; vaguely pungent with a sweet twinge. It was sickening. It was the kind of stench that got on your skin, on your clothes and just stayed there.

At the moment, they were all situated around a small coffee table. He, Chiaki Akita, Inoue, and Matsumoto--Inoue making idle chitchat with Matsumoto occasionally throwing in a word or two while the wife prepared some tea. He noted how her hands shook as she poured it.

Yukio looked over to Inoue to see if he had noticed it and if he would comment on it if he did. True to his word, however, Inoue kept out of it, shaking his head when he noticed his stare. He showed his understanding via a slight nod but before he could open his mouth to get a word in Matsumoto spoke up.

“Akita-san, what are you hiding from us?”

Straight to the point then. No need for subtlety or tact. Just jump right in there.

To her credit, the wife didn't seem surprised by the question. In fact, relief crept onto her face although it was soon replaced by her usual nervous expression. Chiaki Akita stood, walked towards the open door, peered outside, and then slid the door shut.

“In the guest room,” she started shakily, “there’s a box underneath the floorboards. It’s on the left side of the room. What you’ll find there is...I...it wasn't mine. It belonged to my husband’s previous wife. He just wouldn't….he couldn't let go.”

Matsumoto paused, glancing worriedly at Inoue.

“Are you going to handle this or are you going to let the newbie give it a shot?”

Yukio took exception to that.

“I’ll handle it,” she said, standing.

Yukio would have objected if he’d had the energy. But he didn't. He sighed through his nose and settled on enjoying the awkward silence that one indifferent man, himself, and a distraught housewife created.

It didn't take long for Matsumoto to return but whew boy, when she did…

Yukio saw that the color in her face was gone, her brows knit together, and her jaw clenched. Glowering at everything that passed under her gaze, especially at the floor, she sat down next to Inoue and whispered something into his ear. She looked absolutely livid.

“I took care of it,” she sighed shakily, hands placed primly in her lap and twitching every now and again.

~

The ride home was quiet at first. Inoue drove. Matsumoto sat up front with him, arms crossed and slumped down. She was still making conversation (with Arata) though her voice was flat and emotionless. Yukio was surprised to find himself engaged in the exchange. The question the two of them were discussing was this; is morality relative? It was strange. She was so damn strange. One minute she acts like an obnoxious airhead and the next she’s initiating a philosophical debate.

“I understand your point,” Matsumoto conceded. “In a way, you could say that everything is relative but if we view morality that way then what's the standard? Who’s to say what's right and wrong? Who's to say what we do is right?”

“The government,” he replied immediately. “But I’m guessing you mean in a more spiritual sense.”

Yukio saw her nod.

“Well, I don't know. God, I guess, if you believe in one. Doing the right thing isn't as difficult as some people make it out to be. That's my opinion.”

She was silent for a moment, pondering.

“What about you, Okumura-kun? Who do you think determines right and wrong?”

Yukio thought for awhile.

“I think that it can be determined by oneself.”

She applauded softly, smirking at him over her shoulder. “Good answer, sweetheart. Good answer. Very mature. But do you honestly believe that?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Why?”

“Um, well…”

“It's a simple question, sweetheart. Why do you believe what you believe? There has to be a reason, right? Or are you the type of person who believes in stuff just because someone else tells you that it's true?”

Yukio flushed. Once again, having been thoroughly embarrassed by her. He turned to look out the window, avoiding eye contact and concentrating on what was passing by.

“Quit antagonizing the kid, Kimi.”

His eye twitched at ‘kid’ but he continued to look for distractions.

“I am not antagonizing him--just curious, that's all.”

“Right.”

The countryside really was beautiful at this time of year.

“Arata-san, am I a bad person?”

Green everywhere you looked, rocky trails to hike.

“What’s brought on the existential crisis this time?”

Yukio wasn't really an outdoorsman but he would have liked to visit under different circumstances.

“You know what.”

“The ghoul?”

“The ghoul.”

So that's what they were keeping under the floorboards.

“As an exorcist, sometimes you have to…” Inoue began, trailed off, and went dead quiet.

Still glaring daggers at the roadside scenery passing by, Yukio stole a quick glance out of curiosity. And just like that, all the shame-induced anger that was bubbling underneath his skin dissipated.

Red blotches had formed around her face with fat tears rolling down her cheeks in rivers. She was biting down on her lip to keep from all out sobbing.

“It was a child,” Matsumoto said finally, voice breaking. “The ghoul was a human child.”

Despite himself and his behavior that day, Yukio found himself apologizing as soon as they got back to Tokyo.

And to his utter befuddlement, Kimi Matsumoto accepted it.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
